Fated To Not Just One, But Three

Chapter 425: Disappointed

Selene’s POV

The moment his hard, hot head pressed against my slick entrance, the last remnants of my plan—my vow, my hatred—shattered like glass. It was a physical thing, the soundless explosion in my mind, leaving only the primal, urgent need that was thrumming in my blood, dictated by the wolf I’d fought so hard to control.

"I can’t believe I’m doing this," I choked out, a final, futile protest that felt weak and pathetic even to my own ears.

Frederick didn’t acknowledge the words. He simply shifted his grip, one hand sliding to the small of my back to pull me flush against him, the other grasping my hipbone. The pressure increased, a slow, merciless slide.

Then, with a deep, shuddering inhale, he pushed.

A sharp, ragged gasp tore from my throat as his cock filled me completely, stretching me to the point of pain, but a pain that instantly curdled into the most intense, overwhelming pleasure. It was a deep, satisfying pressure that felt like coming home, even though this ’home’ was a blazing inferno that would consume me whole.

"You’re so tight, little wolf," he growled, the possessiveness in his voice a dark, intoxicating poison. He waited for a beat, letting me adjust, letting the shock and awe of his size settle within me.

My fingers dug into the rock-hard muscles of his shoulders, my head falling back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut. All I could smell was him—earthy, dangerous, and intoxicating—and the musky scent of my own arousal.

"Move," I whispered.

He didn’t need to be asked again. He pulled back almost completely, the air rushing into the small space between our bodies, and then drove in hard and fast.

It was a rhythmic assault, each thrust deep and deliberate, targeting the core of my being. My hips instinctively rose to meet his, the traitorous movements of a body wholly given over to its mate. The frantic hammering of

me, Selene," he commanded, the authority in

of dark fire and sheer possession, his face a mask of intense pleasure and something that looked suspiciously like triumph. The sight of him, dominating me, fucking me, sent

demanded, his thrusts slowing to a

"Frederick," I gasped, moaning.

predatory half-smile, and he slammed into me

instantly around his waist, holding on tight as he spun us around and pressed me back against the cool stone wall. He didn’t lose

the ground, I was completely dependent on him, completely at his mercy. My arms wrapped around his neck, holding on for dear life, my nails scoring tiny lines into his

his voice

against the wall and the depth of his penetration was too much. The pleasure

not supposed to happen," I sobbed, the words tumbling out on a rush of air,

darkening further as he tilted my hips up with a

moaned helplessly, my eyes fluttering shut, but then I felt Frederick’s grip shift, his muscles flexing as he lifted me from the wall. He didn’t even slow, still buried inside me, his breath ragged against my neck as he carried me to the bed. My legs clung to him

I straddled his lap, still impaled on him. We were face to face now, so close his breath mingled with mine, and there was no place left to

to my hips, guiding me down, slow and deep. "Easy," he murmured, his voice rough but softer than

did. I felt everything—the heat of his body, the thickness stretching me open, my wolf

hips as I sank onto him again and again. But beneath